


The Other Side: Part Two

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Erectile Dysfunction, F/M, Impotence, Sex, Sexual Dysfunction, Vaginismus, vulvodynia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 17:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Carrie hasn't heard from Dean Winchester, the man she'd lost her virginity with, in about a year. He turns up one night looking for a good time, but something rather unexpected is plaguing him. Sequel to "The Other Side."





	The Other Side: Part Two

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged (and begged) by my friends to write a sequel. So here it is.

 

Carrie's heart gave a stutter when she first saw Dean Winchester hunched over his drink at the table of the diner.

He was as handsome as ever. Maybe more so, if that was even possible. He saw her approach, looked up and flashed his bright smile, green eyes shining with familiarity. She saw them flick appreciatively up and down her body once, so quickly she almost missed it.

He got up and embraced her, pulling her tight to his chest. She melted into the warm feel of his arms.

"Hi, sweetheart." He mumbled.

"Hi," she said, a little dizzy when he let her go. My god he was intoxicating. She slid in the booth opposite him. He had on his familiar oversized leather jacket.

"How've you been?" He put the beer bottle to his soft full lips and took a long swig. She watched his throat work as he did.

"I'm good." She smiled. "I didn't think I'd hear from you. It's been a long time."

He nodded. "Well, I was passing through."

"You with your Dad?"

She saw his face tighten. He cleared his throat. "Nah. Dad died."

"Oh no!" Her heart stuttered. "Dean, I'm so sorry."

"What happened?"

"Car accident." He said, rubbing his hand over his face.

"How?"

"Carrie, can we not talk about this right now?" He gave her a tired smile. "I was just hoping to relax tonight. Been stressed."

"Of course." She said, reaching over to lay a hand over his on the table. He took it and squeezed. His skin warm and welcome against her. She thought of all the things those talented hands did to her.

"Got a boyfriend yet?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She snorted. "No."

He shook his head. "Morons."

"They're not exactly lining up around the block to have what I can offer, Dean."

"I enjoyed myself." He said flirtatiously.

She flushed. "Oh you did, huh?"

His lips went around the bottle again. "Mmmhmmm."

She smirked. "So is this a booty call?" It was a joke but she saw the intent in his eyes.

He swallowed the beer, brought the bottle up to his mouth and kept eye contact as he set it against his full bottom lip. His tongue flicked against the glass before he swallowed again. "Mmmhmmm." He said darkly.

Carrie felt her heart triple time. She never thought she could be jealous of a beer bottle.

* * *

 

Dean had a hold of her hand while they walked. His grip was warm and strong. She felt heady, almost giddy, in his presence. "I never thought you'd look me up again." She said, stepping over a branch.

He followed suit and glanced down at her. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "It's just that...the way things went...I wasn't exactly dynamite."

He halted his steps, his boots crunching on the dry leaves of the path. "We had fun. I had fun. Stop complicating this."

She looked into his eyes. "But..."

He put his hand up to touch her face. "Hey. Bein' the first man inside you..." he smirked a little. "Kind of a turn on."

"You're the only man." She said softly.

He closed his eyes for a second and shifted. "Yeah... see?" He pulled her a little closer. "Not gonna lie...that's kinda hot."

She smiled, her heart warming toward him. "It is, huh?"

He smirked again. "Mmmmhmmm."

He looked around them, spotted a large fallen log and tugged her over toward it. He sat down on the rough textured bark and tugged her so that she half-fell onto his lap.

"Dean." She laughed.

"You ever make out in the forest before?" He asked, his voice in her ear.

"No." She said, trying to turn to face him. He arrested her movement, brushed her hair over to one side and ghosted his lips over the her neck, just behind her ear.

A jolt of pleasure shot through her. His tongue slowly touched the shell of her ear as he pulled her back snuggly onto his lap.

"Oh, Jesus." She whispered, not sure where to put her hands. He angled her back against his chest and she relaxed and went with him.

"Thought about you." He said darkly. "You think about me?"

"Yes." She said, all the time.

She felt him slide his hand under her jacket and sweatshirt His hand was almost startling on her under the layers of clothing and her belly clenched for a moment as he settled it on her abdomen. She felt his muscular thighs shift under her ass. She stayed quiet, a little tense, not knowing what to expect. His slightly cool hand warmed with her body heat and he slid it up, then his thumb edged under her bra. She arched into his chest with a gasp. His mouth closed on the outside of her ear. She felt his warm breath across her ear lobe like a summer zephyr and felt the heat grow between her legs.

His fingers slid under her bra cup and he teased her nipple, until she felt it stiffen in his fingers. He pinched it a little and she cried out, arching into him.

"That's my girl." He whispered.

He moved them to her other breast, stroking. She felt his chest rise and fall as she leaned against it. He slid his hands down to tease under the waist band of her jeans.  
Oh god, Dean."

Her boots scrabbled against the debris under her feet. He wrapped an arm around her, arrested her movement by tightening his hold and pulling her into him, then pushed his fingers into her panties. She pulled against him, trapped, tilting forward as his finger slid down lower.

"Dean..."

"Yeah?" He asked huskily behind her. He was warm and solid and the dark timbre of his voice sent a thrill of lust through her.

He gently circled her clitoris with his finger. She gasped and squirmed in his grip a little.

"I wanna make you feel good, sweetheart."

Her arms were pinned at her sides and her heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the heat building. Her face flushing. He'd let her go if she asked him to, she knew. But she didn't really want him to stop.

He nuzzled her hair, his nose pushing aside a few stray strands and he kissed the nape of her neck. She cried out and squirmed--and suddenly she was coming with a flush of heat and breathlessness.

He let her go and she slumped forward and grabbed his arm for balance. Carrie let herself stay there for a moment before she leaned backward against his chest.

"That feel nice, sweetheart?"

"Yes." She batted his arm playfully. "Jerk. You didn't even let me touch you."

He laughed. She stood up and turned around to face him. He spread his legs a little so she could stand between his knees. She bent over and kissed his lips gently. He closed his eyes and moaned.

Her hands teased at his belt and he took her wrist and stilled her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothin." He was playful. "Just wanna save it for later."

He looked up at her, big eyes and long lashes. His mouth quirked in a smile. She put her fingers in his hair and noticed a small healing scar on his forehead, leading into his scalp. She traced her thumb over it.

"What happened? You've got a scar here."

"Huh? Oh." He blinked. "It's from the car accident." He seemed a little insecure suddenly, put his hand to it, and furrowed his brow. "Is it that noticeable?"

"No. It just caught the light when you moved your head." She pressed her lips against it tenderly. "Poor baby."

She didn't notice him close his eyes in almost pain at the gesture.

He stood up. "My ass is falling asleep." He dusted off the back of his jeans and began to walk toward the cabin.

She hooked her arm in his as they strode.

"Does our cabin of debauchery look the same?" He asked wryly. "New curtains? New bed?"

"It never had a bed, silly. Just those foam mattresses on the floor."

"I know. They worked pretty good though."

She smiled at him. "God, it's good to see you."

He returned it, the corners of his eyes crinkling. His teeth white and perfect. "Good to see you too."

The cabin appeared in the distance. Dean was watching his boots crunching through the leaves on the trail. "So... I'm still the only guy, huh?"

Carrie blushed. "Yeah."

"I'm honored. But I was hoping you'd have been able to... you know."

She shrugged, her silky blonde hair swaying with the motion. "Vaginismus isn't that simple, Dean. It's not like you popped my cherry and I'm good to go now."

He bit his lip. "Yeah. That's...I'm sorry. It's a shitty break."

Carrie opened the door to the cabin. "I'm not going to be any better than I was last time."

"Hey." He stepped over the threshold and his eyes swept the room. "You were fine last time. I already told you I had fun. You know how to use your hands. "He turned around to face her, took her hands in his. "You know what the sexiest thing a woman can have is?"

"A great ass and and nice rack?"

Dean's eyebrow raised. "Well yeah..but besides that?"

She shrugged.

"Confidence." He bent down to kiss her softly and then broke away. "So you just have faith in yourself that you are going to rock my world. And you will."

She grabbed a hand full of the back of his jacket. "You're too good to be true."

"That's flattery, not confidence." He said, moving his hip into her a little. "Flattery works."

She gave a snort, slipped her hands under the back of his jacket and under his blue button up and t-shirt until she felt skin. She laid her hands against it. He was warm, soft and smooth.

Dean hummed his approval.

She leaned her head on his chest and his arms went around her shoulders.

They stood quietly for a moment. "This feels nice," he sighed. "It's been a rough year."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. I wanna forget about it." He said. He ghosted his lips over her temple. "Just wanna lose myself in your warmth."

God that sounded sexy the way he said it.

"Yeah?" She asked, moving her hands up and down his back. He slid his own hand under her jacket and shirt and ran it up her back.

His hand was so big in comparison to her frame that splayed out it spanned the entire width of her lower back.

"I missed you," she said, pressing up against him and sliding her fingers under the waist of his jeans, feeling the curve of his ass with a sigh. "I fantasize about you."

He liked that.

She saw a smile curve his lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Bout what?"

"Lots of things."

"Hmmm." He slid his hand around to her side and ran it up to her bra line, let his thumb graze her nipple. It felt fucking fantastic. He did it again and she gasped.

"Wanna tell me?" His voice was dark.

Carrie blushed, suddenly a little shy.

That pleased him too. The playful smile lit his face. "Are you _shy?"_

"Dean."

His thumb circled her stiffening nipple again.

"Come here." He pulled her down onto the mattress with him and she went with a surprised squeak. "Anyone tell you how beautiful you are?"

Carrie flushed again. "No."

He pressed himself against her and then rolled her under him. She felt her heart jump in her chest at it. He nuzzled his face into her neck and planted a few kisses along her pulse point.

She tilted her neck to give him access. His mouth warm and moist on her skin was divine. He brushed her hair out of the way and nuzzled the soft hair at the nape of her neck. She turned her head to let his lips kiss just under her hairline.

He rocked his body suggestively into her and it moved her with him. His jacket gave a creak of leather with the motion. "You're beautiful." He muttered.

He drew himself to his knees, still straddling her and threw off his jacket, then peeled off his blue button up and his t-shirt. Tossed them aside. His brass leather amulet swung on its thong between them, bounced against the beautiful white skin on his chest. His abs were toned. Her hand slid in wonder to the divot of muscle that ran from his navel down to disappear under his belt. She traced it with her thumb.

"You too," he said, back on all fours, the amulet swinging hypnotically. "Too many layers."

He slowly put his hand on her jacket zipper and pulled it down. The way he did it it felt impossibly dirty. He got off of her and she sat up. He peeled it down off her shoulders and then pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Leaving only her bra. He smiled. "That better?"

She nodded.

Dean smiled and motioned for her to come to him. She rose to her knees, his skin pressed against hers divine. His smell. His deodorant and soap and shaving cream. He kissed her deeply, parting her lips under his. His tongue flicked against hers. She tried to pull away and he kept their lips pressed together for so long her heart stuttered and she had to take a breath through her nose. Finally, he pulled back a little and she took a few winded gasps.

"You like that?" He asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

He moved in again, capturing her mouth with his, kissing her passionately until she felt like she was drowning. Her senses pulled under by Dean. Dean's hands were roaming her back, tangled in her hair, his mouth pressed against her, passionate almost desperate. He swallowed her moan as he pushed her gently backward until she went down and he nestled his jean clad hips between her legs, still kissing.

"Dean," she said, her face flushed, her lips swollen.

He pulled back fractionally. "Yes sweetheart."

She didn't know what she wanted to say to him. "I'm out of practice." She laughed.

"You're doing good, baby." He took her hands and pinned them over her head, kissed her neck. "Doin' real good."

Her back arched into him. Then his hot breath was in her ear and his lips pressed against her ear lobe.

She gasped, pulled against him. He was way more enthusiastic and less careful than before with her. Her body was responding to him. Her mind was lagging behind a little.

"Dean."

He heard the slight discomfort in her voice and pulled back. "Too much, sweetheart?"

She nodded. "A little."

He let go of her arms. "I'm sorry. Want me off?"

"No."

"Go ahead and put your arms around my back."

She did. He felt incredible in her embrace. Her fingers slid across his smooth skin.

'I'll be gentle. I'm sorry, baby. Just been a long time for me." He nuzzled her nose with his own. He was so handsome. Just being with him was a visual thrill. He ghosted a kiss on her temple. Then another. He rolled them to their sides and she squeaked at the unfamiliar action.

He chuckled.

"I'm sorry," she laughed.

"It's cute." He said. :I'm used to chicks who've been there and done that. I like havin' one I can make squeal."

His fingers were fumbling against her bra clasps and they came free. She shifted so he could slip it off her. His hands went to her breasts and she gasped. "Can I make you squeal?" He asked teasingly. Darkly.

He trailed kisses along her collarbone and down her breast until he got to her nipple. He looked up at her and flicked his tongue across it.

She tried to grab his hair but it was short enough that her fingers slid through it. She got enough at the crown to get a grip as he closed those full lips around it. He sucked and she arched into his mouth with a cry. He kept up, saw her responding and she felt his teeth join the mix. He bit down very, very gently. She felt a zing of excitement shoot down to her womb. She gasped tugging on his hair, pulling him back and then closer. He knew he'd locked on to something she liked and he gave her no quarter. She looked down at him sucking and nuzzling, at the curve of the dark lashes, the high angle of his cheek bone. His spiked hair. He was so gorgeous.

She hooked her leg over his side. He sank his fingers into her thigh and pulled her tighter against him. Just when her nipple had become so sensitive she couldn't take anymore, he released her and started on the second one. Gentle, building intensity as he listened to what she liked. She felt like she were on the edge of orgasming. Dean knew it and suddenly his hand was between her legs, rubbing over the denim of her jeans. It built until she almost wanted to cry. And she wanted him inside her so badly.

His teeth gently pinched her again. "Dean." She whimpered.

He increased the rubbing. It wasn't quite going to work. She needed to feel him under the fabric. The intensity grew too much and she pushed his head away. He let her go, hands going up to brush the hair out of her eyes. "That's my girl."

He started on her jean button, popped it open, coaxed down her zipper. Then moved to pull them down over her legs and off. She felt very aware of her nudity. While he was still down lower he began to rub her calves. She settled on her back and hummed in delight. Then he was moving between her legs, and he pressed his lips to her knee. She jumped with a stutter of breath at the feel of it. He kissed a little higher, the wet, soft warmth of his lips incredible against the inside of her thigh. He turned his head and let the spiky softness of his hair brush against her as he kissed the other leg. She jumped again as he trailed the soft cushion of his mouth up higher. Higher. Gentle. He reached dangerously high on the inside of her thigh and started to suck there. She gasped, arching, wide open to him, not even sure what was going on. His tongue moved a little higher, almost to the crease where her thigh met her pelvis and then he kissed there... all wet warmth. He looked up at her, locked gazes, put his hands on the cheeks of her ass and lifted her a little.

She stiffened. "Dean."

He moved his head a little to the inside.

"No." She panted. He stopped. Cocking an eyebrow. "You sure, baby?"

Fuck she wasn't sure but there was some weird fear at the vulnerability of it and she wasn't comfortable enough to let him proceed.

He kissed her thigh again. "You might like it. I guarantee you'll like it."

She shook her head, feeling flushed. "Not now. Please."

He moved his kisses to her hip and slowly up her body. His hand slipped down between her legs. He parted her with his fingers and gently ran the tip of one over her swollen sex.

"In me." She pleaded.

He cocked an eyebrow again. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Please..."

He slipped a finger farther back, she could feel the familiar sting of having something near her vagina but she was so eager to have him there she ignored it. He slowly started to ease in. It burned but she didn't tense as badly as the last time. He sank in farther, carefully. She felt the familiar pulling stretch of pain, cried out a little.

He stilled. "Okay?"

She nodded. He moved and she tensed again.

"Easy sweetheart." He coaxed. Rather than thrusting, he moved In a come hither motion, the pad of his finger exerting gentle pressure against her g-spot. She gasped. It hurt but it felt so fucking good. Then he pressed against the back wall. His free fingers pressed into her perineum on the outside, gently kneading until he felt the ring of muscle soften and he could sink into her farther. He moaned with pleasure at it. She could feel the eagerness in him. That adrenaline driven need to give her pleasure.

In farther, moving carefully. Gently. A second finger joined the first and that actually did hurt for a minute. A searing pain that shot up her body. "DEAN."

He stopped. "I'm sorry baby."

She felt her body spasm around the invasion. "Dammit." She fought tears of humiliation.

Dean was focused on her. "What sweetheart? Need me out?"

Her arms went around his back and she pressed her face into his shoulder. "No." She whispered. "Just stay still."

He did. She could tell it was with an effort, his instinct to _move_ and _coax_ and _thrust_ hard to fight. Her body relaxed a fraction. He felt it, moved again, then used his thumb to press against her clitoris. Again. Gently. Again. Rhythmically, and suddenly she was coming, crying out, clenching against him, the contractions rocking her body.

He pulled out slowly. She gritted her teeth against the burn and then went slack when he was out.

"You okay?" He asked her.

She was panting, exhausted. She nodded.

He pulled her to him. Let her rest in the crook of his arm. "Feel okay?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't come here for intercourse, baby. We don't have to work up to that."

"What if I want to?"

She felt him tense a fraction. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not."

"Yes I am."

"What if I want to try again?" She could sense his discomfort at the suggestion.

"Let's just see where it goes, okay?" He kissed her again, didn't give her time to question.

"Dean, I'm tired."

"You've got another one in you." He said confidently.

"I don't think..." His fingers were between her legs again. This time he brought her there sweating and panting so fast she felt like she was putty.

He grinned wickedly, very pleased with himself. She pushed his hand away from her, trying to ride out the sensations. She had that familiar cramping spasm from being penetrated.

Her hands went to his belt and he stilled them with a hold on her wrists.

"What?" She was puzzled.

"Let's make it about you." He said in a tone that would have made her shiver if she hadn't just been satisfied.

She smiled. "It makes me happy to touch you. So if we make it about me, you gotta let me touch you."

He leaned back onto the mattress and she watched the muscles in his belly work with the movement. "Can you touch my chest for me?"

"Of course." She placed her hand on him and rubbed across his pecs and down under his ribcage.

He sighed.

She enjoyed doing it, but it struck her as odd. Normally he'd be champing at the bit to have her go straight for the kill at this point. The languid way he was reclining felt more like he was relaxing rather than hoping for a blow job.

She traced under his clavicle and he hummed. "That's nice."

 "You're so handsome." She said, drinking in his presence. 

 

 

 He smirked happily. That little devilish glint in his eye. "Yeah? "

 "Yes."

 "I like that." He stretched himself open and long, laced his hands behind his head.

She stroked his chest down to his navel. He watched her lazily. She lingered there a bit, not sure if he wanted her to continue. She straddled him and ran her hands over his biceps. He closed his eyes. She ground herself onto his pelvis. He hummed again.

She reached under his jeans and he tensed a little. "Sweetheart. "

"What?" she asked, ghosting her fingers along the rim of hair starting there. She parted his pants, slid herself lower onto his thighs and grasped him. To her surprise, he was flaccid and pliant to her touch. She stroked him for a few minutes, could feel Dean tensing but he wasn't responding to her carress.

 "This isn't gonna work," he said, pulling her hand away. "I'm sorry. "

 "What's wrong?" She asked, getting off him, baffled.

He averted his gaze.

"Dean, talk to me."

 "I just can't right now. "

 "What's wrong?"

"Carrie. Please." He sat up, looking for his shirt.  

 Carrie sat nude on the mattress completely confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

 "Fuck, no."

She put her hand on his bare shoulder. He flinched a little. "Hey." She knelt behind him and kissed his shoulder blade.

He closed his eyes and swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry. "

 "Nothing to be sorry about. Except not telling me what's going on." She craned her head around front to look at him. "Talk to me, baby. 

 His cheeks were flushed, his eyes still closed. "Dean," she shuffled around on her knees and touched his jaw. She leaned in to kiss him and gently set her forehead against his. 

 He sighed. 

 "I've been..." he broke off, pulled back a little and ran a hand over his face. "This is awkward. I need a drink."

 "It's not that big a deal. You know I'm not gonna judge you."

 "Yeah. Kinda." He acquiesced.

 "That's why you called me up."

 "No I really like you too, Carrie. But it's... it's real awkward when you've got a one night stand and yeah."

 "I get it. Come on." She pulled him down onto his side and cuddled up to him. 

 "First coupla times, I blamed it on the whiskey." He blinked. "It's not. It's me somehow."

 She pondered it, was sure she knew the cause. "Since your dad died? "

 "I..." he opened his mouth and thought about it. "Yeah. I guess so."

 "It's stress. "

 "I'm not stressed. "

 She gave Dean a disapproving look. She touched his face under his eye. Ghosted her fingers over his beautiful cheekbone. "You're with me." She soothed. "And it's okay. Alright?"

"W...what is?" He asked. 

 "If you can or if you can't. If you wanna talk to me. It's okay. "

She could tell that that he wanted to leave. That he was uncomfortable with the entire turn of the conversation. She didn't want him to. 

 She felt him stir and start to roll to grab his shirt and she arrested his movement with her hand. "Stay with me. "

 He looked very vulnerable. His boyishly handsome face wide eyed. "M not goin anywhere. "

 "No you're not. So come on. Lie here with me. "

 "I kinda lost the mood, Carrie." He pulled his shirt over his head and stood up. "I gotta take a piss. "

 He slammed the door to the cabin as he went outside. 

* * *

 

 

 It was a long time before he came back. So long that she almost thought that he'd left her and walked back to the car. She'd pulled her pants and sweatshirt back on.

 Dean went for the icebox and grabbed a beer. He popped the cap with his ring and took a long swig. "I think I answered the age old question: does a bear shit in the woods? Yes. Yes they do. "

 She snorted. "Did you fall in it?"

 "Nope just saw it. "

 She wiped her eyes. She'd been crying a little and she didn't want him to see it. Even though she knew that it was something going on exclusively with Dean, it felt almost personal. Like she wasn't desirable enough.

 "I thought you'd left." She said. 

 He paused to look at her, ducked his head and took and another swig. "Thought about it. Couldn't. It'd be kinda douchey to leave you alone up here. "

 "Yes it would have." She said, brushing back her hair. She walked over, took the beer out of his hands and took a long draught. "So what are we doing now? "

 He shrugged. "Wanna go back?"

 "No. "

 He raised an eyebrow. "Wanna go on a nature hike?"

 She bit her lip, gave him doe eyes. "No."

He smirked a little. "Want me to touch you?"

 "Only if I can touch you back."

 He shook his head, shifted uncomfortably. "Carrie, I can't, baby. "

 "That's not the goal here, Dean. Smorgasbord, remember? "

 "No."

 "You told me sex was like a Smorgasbord. There's no main entree." She gave him his beer back. 

 He was standing stiffly and despite his height, he seemed strangely diminished somehow. Dean took a drink. She was a little surprised at how hard his impotence was hitting him. 

She grabbed hold of his hand and led him over to the chair by the pot bellied stove. "Sit."

 He seemed surprised by the command. He sat heavily. She took his mostly empty beer bottle and set it next to him. His soft green eyes were following her movements curiously. 

 She straddled him. Settled on his lap. His hands went to her ass and he pushed her up closer to him. "What are you doin?"

Her hands went to his hair and she ran her fingers across his scalp. He blinked slowly, those full lips pursing as he watched her. Their proximity almost invited kissing but neither did. She held his gaze until the intimacy of it made Dean break away and look down at her white throat. 

 Her hands moved over to stroke his face and caress his strong jawline. Then they trailed to his chest. 

 Dean moved in to kiss her, softly, tentatively. His hand slowly went up and hovered just behind her back until he surrendered and finally put his arms around her. She kissed the side of his neck and she heard a soft little moan. And suddenly, as he hugged her, she could feel a fine tremble in his body. 

 "What's wrong?" she asked. 

 "Nothing." He said. 

 "You nervous?"

"No." His breath when he drew it in was a bit quaking. "I just...a little."

 "It's okay." It felt a little odd reversing their roles. She kissed his cheek tenderly and Dean's eyes drifted shut. She saw his jaw tremble. Felt the emotion in him. She didn't know what he was feeling emotional about, only that he was. 

She pulled him to her tenderly and he dropped his head into her shoulder.  

She held him and matched her breath to his. "Don't be nervous."

"Don't want to bat out." He joked, still leaning into her neck. 

"You've already given me three orgasms. You're not batting out no matter what you do."

 He snorted and pulled away. He looked infinitely sad. Her hands went to his jaw and she cupped him tenderly, searching his face. This went so much deeper than performance anxiety. "Hey what's wrong?"

 "Nothin. Just...yeah... i... my head's in the game but then I can't get _him_ on board with it, you know? I don't know what's wrong with me."

 "Nothing is wrong with you. Its okay to be off your game once in a while. You just lost your dad."

 The statement looked like it mortally wounded him. He blinked back tears. 

 "Oh Dean." She unstraddled him and pulled him to her breast as she stood up. 

 He let out a gulping sob. 

 "Shhhhh. It's okay."

He hugged her back crushingly.

Carrie held him. "You've just had a shitty time lately. That's all. It's all gonna get better soon."

 He calmed after his moment of weakness. 

 "Hey." She said. "I'll put on some tea. We can grab a snack.  Let's snuggle up and eat."

 "Okay." He said, looking up at her, still vulnerable.

"And then after..." she let her sentence trail off. 

"What?" he asked.

"Let's snuggle up under those blankets and see what happens. I want to give you a massage. Sound good?"

He nodded.

"No pressure. What happens happens, what doesn't doesn't."

Dean swallowed and nodded. She could tell he'd never felt comfortable in a relationship before. Didn't know what to do with it...this strange vulnerability to another person. They weren't even in a relationship but she felt like there was another weird intimacy between them. Could tell Dean felt the same way. She leaned down and captured his mouth with hers.

Dean smirked as she pulled away. "What a cool chick you are." He said with a measure measure of pride. "You're awesome."

 Carrie kissed his forehead. "No you're awesome."

**To Be concluded in Part 3.**


End file.
